Category: patriarchy

Already, through shared articles, I see folks taking wee sighs of relief. I see people saying, “OK, maybe it’s not as bad as we think.” YES IT IS. Nothing has changed. Nothing!

Come on, my fellow white citizens – Don’t let yourself be lulled into ease, into “oh, hey, I can live with that.” Don’t slip back into your comfortable white supremacist thinking. Sure, it’s what you know – and it’s just as wrong today as it was yesterday. Don’t lose yourself in it again.

The articles being shared talk about the President-elect’s campaign promises that won’t come to pass – he won’t overturn the ACA, he can’t really build a wall, etc. What were you thinking? That he could build that wall? Do you know the size of the border? Do you know what’s at stake for those in power if it happened? The ACA, have you forgotten that Congresspeople only care about being re-elected and most citizens are for the ACA? They may want changes to the ACA, but they don’t want it repealed into the ether. How long have you been watching Washington?

Broken promises aren’t new. Why are you relieved that campaign promises can’t be kept? Did you really believe all the things said to get your vote were doable? If so, you need to do a Google search on the history of winners’ promises coming to fruition by their own hand.

It wasn’t the promises that got people to vote, it was the mindset that posited those things, the psyche that knew one could say any outrageous thing, any promise could be made, and if those promises said underneath that they’d uphold the old order, the status quo, people would gobble that up and vote.

Now is not the time to be relieved some campaign promises can’t be kept – this is not news. This is one more tool to invite complacency, to let you know your life (your cis, het, white, able-bodied life) can stay mostly as is, while everyone else (again, again) has boots on their throats.

Dear Gods, don’t be complacent. White supremacy is still here. It never left – not during the last 8 years, not during the last hundreds or years. Don’t allow your edge to be smoothed away by articles that want you to go back to being silent, ineffective, and a cog in the system.

Please, please – stop reading and sharing those articles. Don’t let relief overtake your new vigor to fight the system. Stoke that flame of resistance! It is tiny, extinguishable by a thimbleful of water -do not allow it! Stoke those flames of change!

It is the time to RISE, not sit. To keep our eyes open, to shout until we can no more, to stand with the disenfranchised and the marginalized. It is time to put our mouths, money, and bodies between the way it has always been and the world we want it to be! RESIST!

First, here is the most egregious part of his letter, highlighted in yellow:

As it stands now, Brock’s life has been deeply altered forever by the events of Jan 17th and 18th.

By the events – as opposed to “by his actions”. This was not an event that happened to him, this is a thing he chose to do. (deflection, rape culture, blame shifting, patriarchy)

He will never be his happy go lucky self…etc.

Because he’s a rapist. (Son should be able to remain unchanged after committing heinous crime – male privilege, rape culture, patriarchy)

His every waking moment is consumed with worry, anxiety, fear and depression.

So he can identify with his victim. Good to know. (lack of concern that his victim’s psychological state is the same because of him, concern only for the rapist – male privilege, patriarchy, rape culture)

You can see this in his face, the way he walks, his weakened voice, his lack of appetite. Brock always enjoyed certain types of food and is a very good cook himself. I was always excited to buy him a big ribeye steak to grill or to get his favorite snack for him.

Brock rapes an unconscious woman behind a dumpster and dad’s big concern is his son can no longer enjoy steak. ( the worst thing to happen to a rapist is losing his appetite – male privilege, patriarchy)

Now he barely consumes any food and eats only to exist. These verdicts have broken and shattered him and our family in so many ways. His life will never be the one that he dreamed about and worked so hard to achieve.

Eating to exist is kind of the point of consumption of food, but I digress. The verdicts did not do the shattering, the rape did the shattering. He killed his dreams himself, he worked hard to achieve rape. (deflection, blame shifting from crime to consequence -male privilege)

That is a steep price to pay for 20 minutes of action out of his 20 plus years of life.

Seeking Medusa (poetry slam version)

I search for her.
Images, renderings, and statues abound,
What I see is Barbie™ Medusa,
I see how the patriarchy sees.

Even a goddess,
in order to be seen!
to be worshipped!
to have place on the altar!
Must look Just So.
Body of Hollywood beauty,
Fair of face,
where only the hair can be writhing,
Reminiscent of orgasmic tussle to succumbing.

I want to see Medusa of olde!

I want her face large!
unbecoming!
Twisted in rage!

I want full mouth keening with despair,
as distorted eyes pop her stony gaze.

I want Medusa,
in all her monstrous glory.
I want Medusa as is.

When I do glimpse her monstrous –
Gorgon face contorted,
full of power
and blazing eyes –
Her bloody head hangs from Perseus’ hand.

Message received.

I want to see Medusa!
Repulsed and repulsive!
Raw power of monster
In modern day.

Our next endeavor is on March 23rd, but since this issue is large and widespread we’ve opted into offering a honey jar pre-working, starting tomorrow, and continuing through the Main Working on the 23rd. (Or continuing as long or as short as you please, or only doing the Main Working on the 23rd, details to come on that piece.)

▶This is a working in two parts, with the goal of maintaining bodily autonomy for women and reasonable access to women’s health care (including abortion, currently legal). Multiple cases concerning women’s access to health and bodily autonomy will be heard in the Supreme Court of the U.S. in March. See the links below for background information.

The focus of this working is on making the best possible case in front of the Supreme Court, and “sweetening” the Justices toward the desired outcome. Therefore, our suggested method is a honey jar.

**Astrology focus: not as key this time as in our last project – but we’re on the clock and can’t wait until every planet is in our corner! If you want to add astrological steam, our best bet is a conjunction of Mercury (communication, winning in court) and Venus (women’s issues) in Aquarius. Those who work planetary correspondences should focus on Mercury and Venus (not Jupiter, although he brings justice, because he’s in retrograde all month).

**Starting the Jar:

Get a jar of honey. The quality isn’t really important, since people do the same kinds of spellwork with corn syrup anyway, so just go with whatever looks right at the store. Take a taste out of it to “activate” it with your energy. Then add your focus items.

**Focus Items:

At minimum, write out “Supreme Court of the United States” on a slip of paper. To connect more directly with the present sitting Justices, write a list of their names and/or print out a picture of them. If you can’t get anything else, this much will be enough to activate the spell.

**If you can add some herbs, here are some particularly good ones to put in:

Solomon’s Seal, for wisdom

Rosemary, for letting women “rule” the decision

Dill, a Mercury herb, particularly good for court cases paired with Coriander

Pennyroyal: associated with both peace in the home and abortion

Galangal/Low John root: sweetening of the tongue for presenting in court

Deer’s tongue: sweetening the tongue

Slippery elm: for ending slander, lies, etc

Juniper: it’s been used both for and against sexual prowess, so “control over one’s own sexual business.” (Also, for those who are interested, this one got a nod from Artemis)

Your own traditions and instincts may lead you to other things. Remember that this jar is about influencing the Justices to give us victory in court.

Once you have filled the jar, close it back up. This in itself will be enough to add to the shared working, but you can also keep adding to it throughout the month by burning candles on top of the jar. Dress candles for winning in court in whatever way is consistent with your practice.

**You can continue this working up to and including the Part Two working. Facebook doesn’t allow an event longer than 2 weeks. Feel free to jump in at any time to support this work!

Do you know what happens when you blindly respond from your privileged status? Would you be more mindful if you knew of how things change in the pauses?

[The scene: a typical bank in the U.S. So typical you could swap out the desks, the suits, the pens, and even the paint colours on the walls and you’d not be sure which institution you were in if not for the logo. Thank Gods for logos or we’d be lost forever inside these bland cookie cutter places.]

I sat across the desk from you and had a long conversation about male privilege and my experience with one your previous co-workers. I explained, with brave breath, why my name was going on the loan document first instead of my husband’s name. You appeared interested, concerned. I knew it was your job to appear so, but still I hoped to be heard. You nodded. You small-smiled in understanding. I was clear about how I expected to be treated, and why. You verbalized your agreement.

Three weeks and assorted financial hurdles cleared later, we arrived to sign the documents. My name was first, my spouse’s as co-signer. You pulled the first document for signatures and you set it in front of my husband. You picked up your pen and used it as a pointer to detail down the page exactly what he was signing (on the co-signer line) and didn’t even glance at me. And then you paused for questions, looking at him, and waited for the movement of the pen gripped in his hand. You focused on him leaning forward, reading, both of you oblivious to the change that occurred in the air around me, oblivious to the stifled sigh.

And we all paused.

In that pause you didn’t notice how my view of you dimmed as I inwardly unstifled that sigh. “Again, again”, I thought, “the slight unnoticed,” except by me. This rerun of countless scenarios throughout 54 years of life, this repeat of patriarchy in action, privilege thrust into my space, sexism reinforced.

In that pause I thought of all the breath I had wasted. Precious breath, my breath, expended explaining to you why it mattered that my name be the main borrower. I inwardly sighed my identity into the sea of women and our shared oblivion, where we are daily, hourly, summarily dismissed, and diminished, and treated unworthy.

In that pause I felt decades of oppression and decades of weariness in fighting it settle in my bones.

In that pause you went from potential ally and brighter future to a dim clone of one-of-them.

In that pause I realized my error. I had thought you viewed me as another human being, equal to my husband. Again, again, I shift in that pause. Again, again, my view shifts of another human.

In all the pauses and all the spaces, in all the breath I’ve wasted to the collective whole, we both shift, one diminished and one emboldened.

In that pause, your life goes on as usual. In that pause, mine becomes harder to breathe in.

This post inspired by the level of SJW (Social Justice Work) terminology that appears to be needed in this country.

The institutionalized systems in this country are set up to favour some over others and this is what is meant by having (institutionalized) privilege. The people favoured the most are male, white, hetero, able-bodied folks. Everyone else is not as high up the helping ladder of society as they are. We all can be privileged in one area and not in another. This is called intersectionality. This does not erase the privilege we have. Dismantling these systems so everyone truly starts on a level paying is the ideal. But we’re dealing with humans here, so the second level ideal is mitigating as much as possible the effects of privilege in our everyday lives, from the micro-aggressions to the macro-aggressions. See the handy links below for longer explanations of terms I have used. Use the comments sections to tell me how wrong you think I am without having read the links.

Some sort of shenanigans happened on my blog (I’m looking at you, Loki of the missing socks) when a draft managed to published itself with only the description of the prompt and the word “Hel”. I find this hilarious. But here’s my late post anyway.

I’m pretty tapped out ATM with SJ conversations that feel like they have never moved beyond the 101 level in spiritual spaces where I hold a high expectation of awareness + openness + growth. But, I am in the trad that I am for a reason. That said, while I understand how this can be a call to arms for some, for me it’s like someone nicked my jugular and I’m not gonna bleed out to create a fountain for the racists to quench their thirst.

This sentiment is prompted by incidents at this year’s Pantheacon, but P-Con is far from the only offender. (Oh if it were!) My Gods however like to take long term views of the humans and their flaws. And They’re pretty brilliant at that. Along with all the other directives and instructions and “Hey, why don’t you do this now!!”s there has always been an emphasis on work hard, but work smart. This has come in messages since I was a kid and the onus has been on me to work diligently in my corner of the world because the “It’s not fair!!” that rises in me at global injustice overwhelms to paralysis. This if course does not mean I get to stick my head in the sand, or ignore injustices elsewhere, but when it comes to parsing my energy and finances, do the most good often translates to places that don’t me a couple of grand to get to. (If I ever get to a place of financial security where a couple grand every month is doable – go me! – I’ll reassess.)

And right now I’m bone tired of my spiritual community having not progressed farther in the fight against privileges and abuse issues than society at large. Really? FuckThatShit. (“Really”, whisper the Gods.) They remain steadfast in their insistence that “work hard, but work smart, go where you’ll do the most good” is an oath I should continue to hold. They all deeply value self care, too. Hel, Poseidon, Yemaya, Kuan Yin, Papa Legba, and Cerridwen -so say all. So I shall.

Oppression Doesn’t Go Both Ways

The problem with reverse -isms (racism, sexism, etc) is that they imply everyone is starting from an equal place. Of course, members of marginalized groups can be bigoted or prejudiced. But marginalized groups don’t have the same structural ability to behave oppressively.

Saying “racism goes both ways” or “women can be sexist too” etc. etc. actively ignores existing power dynamics. It also leads to victim blaming because structural oppression should be able to be overcome *if* the victims are actually societal equals to the person being an asshole.

If racism was truly a mutual 2 way thing, there would be equal incidents of oppression. The consequences of bigotry would go both ways.

Posting the link again because it was and still is worthy and important work. I like to keep this active.

After the Pantheacon incident a few years ago where transwomen were turned away at the door of a “women only” ritual this is one of the good things that came after that experience. Other good things in terms of dialogue about sacred space, discrimination, and how an event such as Pantheacon should address these issues going forward happened, too. This is a free shareable file for non-commercial use titled “Gender and Transgender in Modern Paganism”.

Read chapter 11 “Boys Shorts: an experience of gender and modern paganism” by Lance Moore for a ride through the USA and varying Pagan circles and how gender was treated and felt by Lance over an extended period of time.

Perhaps 150 people, at the end of a weekend of ritual and connection (and unsafe sex, by all later accounts). We’re separated into lines of men and women. It’s dark out.

The women gather in the ritual hall, a big, open space, bare, but our energies have filled it all weekend.

The women are singing a couple of lines from – a chant – we sang a lot of chants.

The men file in, taking places among the women, singing the other lines of the chant; where the sound of the women’s voice went quiet, the men’s filled in, back and forth, interweaving bodies and song.

It gives me chills.

I think I am in the wrong line. I am a young female adult. To all appearances, anyway. No one would’ve imagined otherwise. I squirm inside… appreciating every moment of this ritual, and still squirming inside.

Press `Stop.’

I went to about three Harvest Moon Celebrations. They were so amazing; pagans gathering together in LA! Judith Butler rocked my world with her giant book and her in-depth presentation on the chakras. A woman! I went to a great intensive on runes… the book I was working from was not one of the ones the presenter recommended. Bummer. I recently found the name of that presenter, while going through my rune notes. It was Patrick McCollum. How the wheel turns!

“when she was 7, a boy pushed her on the playground
she fell headfirst into the dirt and came up with a mouthful of gravel and lines of blood chasing each other down her legs
when she told her teacher what happened, she laughed and said ‘boys will be boys honey don’t let it bother you
he probably just thinks you’re cute’
but the thing is,
when you tell a little girl who has rocks in her teeth and scabs on her knees that hurt and attention are the same
you teach her that boys show their affection through aggression
and she grows into a young woman who constantly mistakes the two
because no one ever taught her the difference
‘boys will be boys’
turns into
‘that’s how he shows his love’
and bruises start to feel like the imprint of lips
she goes to school with a busted mouth in high school and says she was hit with a basketball instead of his fist
the one adult she tells scolds her
‘you know he loses his temper easily
why the hell did you have to provoke him?’
so she shrinks
folds into herself, flinches every time a man raises his voice
by the time she’s 16 she’s learned her job well
be quiet, be soft, be easy
don’t give him a reason
but for all her efforts, he still finds one
‘boys will be boys’ rings in her head
‘boys will be boys
he doesn’t mean it
he can’t help it’
she’s 7 years old on the playground again
with a mouth full of rocks and blood that tastes like copper love